


laugh at the night, at the day, at the moon

by moonlitpyre



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Post-Canon, Secret Relationship, The Great Fodlan Bakeoff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24644650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlitpyre/pseuds/moonlitpyre
Summary: She felt a thrill run through her stomach as she made her way through the trees and flowers to the hallway where they’d once agreed to rendezvous. It was only in the middle of the night that they would find the time to be with each other, when they escaped from the public eye in the middle of a grand feast or celebration to seek each other’s company, after a meeting, when they’d carefully sneak out into their private chambers to share a cup of tea and steal one too many kisses.[Dimitri and Byleth have secret dates in the middle of the night]
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 6
Kudos: 95





	laugh at the night, at the day, at the moon

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the Great Fódlan Bakeoff, a writing exercise where writers were given two days and four themes to write a fic. The themes were: exploration, secret, ambition, devotion, and gossip as a bonus.
> 
> Many thanks to my friend Niky who helped me beta-read.
> 
> Title comes from the poem Your Laughter by Pablo Neruda.

The grand castle in Fhirdiad was a true sight on the chilly winter nights of an Ethereal Moon. It was majestic, to say the least—a true jewel to the beautiful kingdom that had birthed it. It was, in Byleth’s mind, everything the Blaiddyd family stood for: strong, perhaps rather intimidating, but warm and truly breathtaking.

Snow covered each of the towers that composed the castle, painting the rooftops and trees as white as the full moon that hung from the sky. Byleth liked to walk under these spaces, feeling as though she was part of those legends Ashe and Ingrid loved to read so much about. And in a way, she supposed she was. She had been a hero of the war that overtook the continent, a legend that was certain to be passed from child to child—much like her father had been.

Her visits to Fhirdiad were usually very cautious, journeys meant for politics rather than old friends visiting one another, but it didn’t make the journey all the less enjoyable. She had grown to rather love the place, marvelled at its beauty and smiled upon each and every new corridor she would discover. It felt like home, in a way, a different sort from Garreg Mach where she had been born and where she had first found herself fitting in. Fhirdiad reminded her of the warmth of a fire after running under the rain, a daunting adventure with the promise of a thrill—it reminded her of Dimitri, gentle and loving as he was, always looking to protect all the ones he held close behind.

She felt a thrill run through her stomach as she made her way through the trees and flowers to the hallway where they’d once agreed to rendezvous. It was only in the middle of the night that they would find the time to be with each other, when they escaped from the public eye in the middle of a grand feast or celebration to seek each other’s company, after a meeting, when they’d carefully sneak out into their private chambers to share a cup of tea and steal one too many kisses. 

Though a few months had passed, the engagement between one another was still kept secret, a shared glance between each other as a finger caressed the rings that would grace their hands. It had, of course, not escaped the eye of a few of their friends, who would often ask about their precedence, and the meaning behind it. Byleth had grown aware of each passing whisper as more weeks had passed. Often she would find the nuns at the monastery whispering about it as she shared a lunch with Seteth, stare at the ring in Dimitri’s hand for a moment longer than it made Byleth comfortable. But the kingdom and the monastery were still being reconstructed, and although she dearly wished to speak of her love for Dimitri more openly, she knew she’d have to wait a few more months before her desires could be executed.

They had agreed upon the next Goddess’ Rite of Rebirth to address their engagement to the public—a double celebration for both the kingdom and the church, who would certainly look forward to each of the festivities that awaited every year, particularly after all the losses they had suffered with the war. Byleth, as newly appointed archbishop, had been left in charge of carrying on these festivities. It was her duty to keep the spirits of her people up, to see to the people of Fódlan and listen to their needs, and she was certain she could manage with Dimitri and her friends by her side.

Nevertheless, despite all her newly appointed duties—and Dimitri’s as the king, they sought to see each other at least once every moon, and meet under the stars where no one else would find them. She had received a letter earlier in the week, upon her arrival to Faerghus. It wasn’t unusual for Dimitri to write love letters to her every few days, but during times in which they found themselves available to meet one another, he would often attach little maps underneath each letter, where he would lead her through all the little spots where they would rendezvous. It was a small detail that she rather enjoyed, particularly during times when she’d be the one to visit Fhirdiad, where she could explore all sorts of passageways and gardens she’d never seen before.

This time, Dimitri had chosen a secret garden near his chambers. It was a private place Dimitri liked to spend his time in. There was a swing underneath a willow tree, where roses bloomed in the spring, and turned to ice in the coldest winters. Looking at it reminded Byleth of a legend her father told her once when she was little, about a brave princess who had once found herself stuck in a castle made of snow. There, she had rescued a prince that was frozen over time, and after a while, they had fallen in love and married under a Great Tree Moon, well into the spring.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Byleth heard a voice behind her as she stopped to admire the white roses that had frozen beneath the swing where Dimitri had played in his childhood. She turned to find him smiling down at her, his cheeks flushed from both the cold and his own words. When she returned his smile and walked to meet him, he shook his head and continued. “You always look beautiful, of course. I’m simply surprised to see you wear Faerghan winter gowns.”

“It was a gift from Mercedes,” Byleth confessed, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. She gazed down at her gown, it was indeed nothing like the dresses she wore back at the monastery, or the long tunics and trousers she wore on her free days. The fabric of the dress was soft and warm, with delicate patterns that adorned her long sleeves and collar. Mercedes had stitched a hooded cloak to the dress, should she ever find herself in need to hide from a snowstorm in Faerghus. “I’m afraid she’s become rather ambitious in creating an entire closet for me now that I’m archbishop. Ever since she and Hilda became close friends after the war, all letters I receive from her come with a package.”

Dimitri laughed, warm and lighthearted. He hesitated before walking towards her, his gloved hands coming to caress her cheek and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I missed you,” he said gently.

Byleth stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss against Dimitri’s lips. It always took him by surprise when she did so, no matter how many times it had happened already, but the smile that would follow him after would never fail to warm her chest. “I missed you too.”

Dimitri gently took her hand and guided her towards the swing where he motioned for her to sit. The wood was rather worn out, but strong and thick enough for her to balance herself as though she were still a kid. She had never indulged in such games—not that she remembered at least, but she liked to imagine what it had been like once for Dimitri. When he walked to stand behind her, she motioned for him to sit by her.

The space wasn’t meant for them to share it, the swing proving to be rather small for someone of Dimitri’s height; nevertheless, with his raucous laughter, and her insistence, they managed to find a way to fit together, their bodies pressed against each other, spreading warmth all through their chests. 

They stayed quiet for a moment, both too caught up in the joy of being in each other’s company to pay mind to anything else. Byleth couldn’t help but admire the beauty of everything that surrounded her, the snow, the trees and bushes. She had wondered more often than not if she could ever see herself, many years from then, building Garreg Mach with snow in the company of Dimitri, and perhaps a little child of their own. The thought brought a smile to her face, but when she turned to look at Dimitri, she found him frowning instead.

“Is something the matter?” she asked.

Dimitri hesitated before he let out a sigh. “I told Sylvain,” he said quietly, his eye wandering off to the bushes that stood before them. There were very flowers hidden in between them, a beautiful indigo that stood out against the snow. It was a species that only existed in Faerghus, and was often kept in the secret gardens that surrounded the castle. “He has heard rumours, from a few knights no wonder, and upon inspecting my hand after hearing all such testimonies, he confronted me about it. He thought I had a secret lover.”

Byleth stopped in her tracks, her eyes locking with his. “Dimitri,” she said quietly. Dimitri stood quietly, unmoving and embarrassed. She could almost tell everything that went through his head, the shame from having broken the promise they had made to keep this a secret for as long as they could. She was certainly aware of how every rumour affected him, how every whisper whenever he walked out of her chambers at Garreg Mach brought him concern. She took one of his hands in between hers and removed his glove. His fingers were long and slender, a perfect fit for her to hide her own. She caressed his palm gently and pressed a kiss over his knuckles. When he looked back at her, his eyes had welled up with devotion. “I’ve been thinking, and I think it might be a good time to tell our friends of our engagement.”

Dimitri’s eye lit up, a different sort of warmth taking over his features. Byleth wanted to press a kiss on the top of his nose. “Are you certain?”

“Yes,” her answer was short and resolute. She took the opportunity of their closeness to nuzzle her head in the crease between his neck and his shoulder. “They are our friends after all, and I trust them enough to keep the secret until the date we’ve set for ourselves. I think it would be quite entertaining to watch them as they proclaim they all knew and suspected. Knowing them as we do, I’m certain they’ve each built up every other entertaining theory pertaining to all the whispers said between the monastery and here.”

Dimitri let out a hearty laugh, his eye crinkling with joy. “Oh I’m certain they’ll have all sorts of stories to share with us,” he concurred and pressed a kiss against her temple. “Sylvain on his own had made up all sorts of theories about my ring. He knew about the letters and couldn’t begin to wonder why it was that I would send them so diligently and with a smile on my face,” he shook his head, “I did wonder how long it would take before he would spread it to all the others. I suppose that now we’ll never know.”

Byleth smiled and nuzzled closer to him. He pressed his arm behind her back bringing her close to his chest. She could hear owls hooting from the trees, and crickets sing to the moon, as they often did back in the monastery. Small lights flared all around them, fireflies trying to find their home in the midst of winter. Byleth closed her eyes and let her surroundings envelop her in slumber.

“Do you think there might be whispers if we walk out of your chambers together, come the morning?” she asked wearily.

Dimitri froze upon her words, then let out a gentle laugh. “I suppose they would,” he said softly. He hesitated before he continued. “Would you… that is—would you like to… ah—.”

“I should like to sleep like this, but over a comfortable bed and not your gardens,” Byleth responded, a teasing smile forming on her lips. When she looked up at Dimitri, a blush had spread all over his ears and neck. “But I am rather tired, so I’d much rather we just slept.”

Dimitri smiled, the blush in his cheeks not yet dissipating. “Of course, my beloved,” he said gingerly and pressed a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll lead the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
